Caged
by IndigoNightandRayneStorm
Summary: Warren left for a reason, but not everybody is as willing to let go and forget the past as he is. When the institute’s new student suddenly goes missing, he is surprised to find who leads the charge to bring him home.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Caged

**Author: **IndigoNight

**Summary: **Warren left for a reason, but not everybody is as willing to let go and forget the past as he is. When the institute's new student suddenly goes missing, he is surprised to find who leads the charge to bring him home.

**Feedback: **Yes please, yay reviews!

**Pairing: **Rogue/Warren

**Disclaimer: **I do not own X-Men or the characters I'm just borrowing them for fun.

**Spoilers: **Mild for X3

**Rating: **PG-13 for mild swearing, alcohol and somewhat graphic violence

**Warnings: **Not that I can think of…

**Author's Note: **Ok, so, omg, for once, not slash, I know, amazing, but there you are. Just something that hit me one night and I just had to write. Please review

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Warren wondered absently along the edge of the grounds of Xavier's institute for gifted youngsters. It was getting late and the sun was setting. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, thinking of the homework waiting for him, and turned to go back but a voice, a horribly familiar voice made him freeze in his tracks.

"Warren?" the voice said, it was quiet, tentative, just a front for the scheming, conniving truth that lay behind it.

"What do you want, father?" Warren demanded coldly, not turning back to face the man.

"I just wanted to see you, son," was the pleading reply.

"Well, there, you see me, now leave, and don't come back," the young mutant hissed.

"Please, Warren, come back home," Warren flinched away from the hand that tried to place itself on his shoulder, "We miss you, your mom and I, we want you home."

"Why, so you can perform more experiments on me?" Warren asked, barely able to keep his voice from betraying the tears that suddenly filled his eyes, "You just want me so that you can continue on your insane crusade to save the world from my kind, from mutants."

"Warren, please, listen-" the man started again.

"No, father, you listen!" his son yelled back, "I'm done! I left for a reason. So you can just continue trying to 'save' the world with out me. I'm not a lab rat; I'm a human being, your son! Sadly," his last word was nothing more than a bitter, heartfelt mutter.

"Please Warren, don't make it be this way, don't make me do this," Mr. Worthington said, once again trying to reach out to his son.

"If you don't want to then don't, just leave and make us all a little bit happier," Warren said, once again shoving his father's hand away.

"I really didn't want to have to do this," Mr. Worthington whispered, stepping back as several dozen armed men stepped from the shadows and advanced toward the young mutant.

"What the--, no, get away," Warren said, struggling to unfurl his wings and fly away. _Damnit, good job Worthington,_ he thought angrily as the men continued to bare down on him, _Brilliant night to wear a shirt._ He struggled as the men grabbed him, crying out in hopes that someone would hear, but to no avail.

He punched the nearest man, and swung at the next. He fought as hard as he could, but he didn't notice a man sneak up behind him and plunge a dart into the side of the neck. He felt a small prick, and froze, blinking several times, before slumping to the ground unconscious.

A lone girl stood on the top floor of Xavier's institute for gifted youngsters, gazing absently out of a window. She sighed tiredly; blowing the single strand of white that framed her face away from her eyes, then paused and peered more closely. She couldn't be sure, but she could have sworn she saw several grown men moving about in the shadows near the front gate, she blinked, and they were gone. But as she began to walk away a few minutes later she could have sworn she heard the sound of a van gunning to life in the distance.

8

Warren woke slowly, at first completely at a loss as to where he was. Then he blinked several times to clear his vision, his head felt as heavy as a bowling ball, and he saw the four, plain, clear glass walls that closed in uncomfortably close to him on all sides.

"No!" he cried, immediately jumping to his feet and throwing himself at the nearest wall, "No! Father! Please!" he ran from all to wall, throwing himself at them, panic beginning to seize his mind. In his panic he ripped off his shirt, unfurling his wings, the tips of which easily collided with the walls surrounding him, and tried to fly out, but alas, barely ten feet from the ground his head collided with a ceiling, just the same as the walls, he was completely locked in.

A cage, a cage, his father had put him in a cage! He beat the walls with his fists, praying that they would give. He couldn't breathe, the walls were getting closer and closer, they were going to crush him. He hated in closed spaces, his father knew that, how could he?

"Finding the accommodations to your enjoyment?" asked a cool voice.

Warren's head snapped up and glared into the room beyond his cage, straight into his father's eyes with the utmost loathing.

"Let me out of here!" Warren hissed, trying hard to keep the panic from his voice, and failing miserably.

"I guess not," Mr. Worthington sighed. Warren just glared at him. "Warren," his father continued, his voice taking on the air that it always did when he gave the 'father-knows-best' speech, like Warren was simply asking to go to a party on a school night or something.

"Father, please," Warren said, he was shaking violently, his vision beginning to cloud around the edges due to fear, "Let me out, please."

"Why?" Mr. Worthington demanded, "So you can go running back to that haven for freaks they call a school?"

"I won't, I swear," he wheedled, loosing the battle again his tears as they began streaming down his cheeks. He banged his fist against the wall again, "Please, father, please! Let me out! I'll do anything!" he begged.

"I'm sorry, son," his father answered coldly, as he turned to leave again, "I just can't take that chance."

"Father? Father! No! Please! Father?" he begged, banging his fists into the wall again and again as he slowly slid to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably, his hands leaving small streaks of blood trailing down the glass wall.

He pressed himself into the corner of his cage, curling up into a ball, his knees hugged tightly to his chest and his wings wrapped around his body, in a pitiful attempt to hide himself from the world and its cruelty.

He remained that way for some hours, crying softly into his knees and wishing he was dead. He hated it! All of it; life in general.

He wondered dully if anyone at the institute had even realized he was gone, probably not. A face slid into his mind, beautiful and sweet, framed by soft, dark hair accented by a single streak of white, _her_ face. Did she even know who he was? That was even less possible. He'd seen her, at meals, between classes; she'd been the one ray of light in his empty semblance of a life. If only he'd been able to work up the courage to talk to her, just once, then maybe his life would have been worth living.

But none of that mattered anymore, his father had taken him back, and he was sure that he would never again see the light of day. He would die here, stuck in this glass cage.

He shuddered, pulling himself into even tighter a ball. He laid his head tiredly on his knees, and slowly slipped away into blessed, oblivious, darkness.

8

Warren didn't know how much time passed, for to him there was no time in that hellhole, just endless, meaningless existence.

Three times a day someone would come to bring him food. The first time he had flown at the man, trying to break free, his only reward for which had been a black eye and a split lip. After that he hadn't moved from his corner, spoken, or touched the food they brought him.

His father came down, every so often, and talked to him. He trying again and again to explain that this was for the best and if Warren would just accept it things would be a lot easier. But Warren ignored him, pretending he didn't even exist, that made things easier.

And then it came, as Warren had known it inevitably would. His father appeared outside of his cage, slobbering drunk. He unlocked the door and stumbled in, Warren just gazed up at him with dull eyes.

"C-come on, s-s-s-son," Mr. Worthington slurred, "s-s-s-say s-s-s-something." Warren didn't move. "Say something, damnit!" he yelled suddenly, grabbing the young mutant by the neck and pinning him against the wall. Still Warren refused to respond. His dad punched him, so hard the force of it drove him across the cage so that he slammed into the opposite wall. Warren didn't even try to get up.

His father lumbered over, pulling him roughly to his feet again. "This is all your fault!" he screamed, "You damn mutant freak! What the hell did you do to my son! My Warren!" tears were streaming down the older man's face, but they held no pain for the boy held between his hands.

In contrast however, Warren's face was completely emotionless, his eyes blank and dull, he no longer had enough life in him to feel, "The question, _father_," he rasped, making the word sound like a curse word, "Is what have _you_ done to your son?" That earned him another punch into the opposite wall.

Warren didn't fight back, he never had when his father got like this, before he had always restrained himself with the argument that he was his father, and he was drunk, now Warren just didn't care.

Mr. Worthington continued in that fashion until he passed out on the floor of the cage and Warren was a bloody heap on the floor. A few minutes later a few men appeared to carry Mr. Worthington up to bed and Warren found himself, once more, lying on the floor of his cage, sobbing brokenly, and wishing for all the world that he had never been born.

He lay there and cried until, once more, he wished for the final time, darkness came to lead him into its quiet, safe, empty depths.

**To Be Continued...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey all, so here's the second and final part of the story. Hope you like it! Big thanks angelbird12241, lets go for life wont wait, and Justin Huston for reviewing. Enjoy!**

"Any idea where he might have gone?" Logan asked gravely.

"No," Storm replied, her eyes sweeping the view out of her office window darkly, "All of his stuff is left out, there's no indication whatsoever that he was even planning to leave."

"So what do you think?" Logan asked.

"I don't know," Storm sighed.

"I might," came a quiet voice from the open doorway. The two adults turned in surprise.

"Rogue?" Logan said, "You know something about this?"

"Y'all are talkin' about Warren disappearin' right?" she asked tentatively. Both Logan and Storm nodded. "Well, I don't know if this is relevant or not," she said slowly, looking very unsure.

"Anything you know could help," Storm said kindly, motioning her into the office.

"Well, I… the other night, I thought I saw some guys carryin' off something near the front gate. It was dark, so I couldn't really see much, so I didn't say anything, but… whatever they were carryin' looked uncomfortably like a person to me."

"So you think he was kidnapped?" questioned Storm. Rogue nodded. "But who? Why?" the weather-witch asked, but no one knew the answer.

"Hey, wait a minute," Logan said, glancing at the T.V. behind the girls and turning the volume up.

"Worthington labs are working to develop an updated version of the cure," announced the new reporter. The shot then flipped to one of Mr. Worthington.

"We apologize for the unforeseen defects in our previous attempts," Mr. Worthington said, leaning of the podium in front of him. Rogue shifted uncomfortably, adjusting her recently re-acquired glove, "But we assure you that we continue to work at finding a solution to the mutant problem…" Logan switched off the T.V. angrily.

"You don't think his father would have…" asked Storm frowning.

"I'll fire up the X-jet," said Logan darkly, already heading out of the office.

"Wait, Logan," Rogue called, hurrying after him, "I'm comin' with ya."

"We all are," said Peter, stepping from where he stood hidden just out of sight from inside the office, behind him stood Bobby, Kitty, Jubilee, and several other older students.

Logan sighed, "Hurry up and get ready, I'm not waiting for you." The students scampered off quickly and within fifteen minutes had assembled outside of the X-Jet, waiting for Logan.

"Alright," Logan said, arriving, "Lets get this show on the road."

8

A heavy, oppressive air filled the silence in the back of the X-jet where the students sat, all contemplating what might have befallen the boy none of them had ever really gotten to know.

"Has anybody here ever really talked to him?" Bobby asked at last, breaking the silence.

"Maybe like once or twice, to ask him about homework or something," Kitty said uncomfortably, the others nodded.

Rogue remained silent. She was worried, the guilt of basically ignoring Warren for the entire time he had been at the institute weighting on her just as much as it was on her fellow students. Although she hadn't really been ignoring him. Ever since Bobby had broken up with her, when the cure started to wear off, she'd felt empty, and lost. Then one day she had seen Warren up in the sky, flying. He'd looked so happy up there, free, and from that point on she'd taken every chance she got to watch him fly, which quickly turned into jumping whenever someone entered the room, scanning the crowded hallways for him, etc., but never had she said anything, being to afraid that he would reject the girl-who-couldn't-touch.

But she resolved, that when they found him, she'd talk to him. She'd stop being afraid and would get to know him. Maybe, she thought, being up in the sky with him would fill the emptiness that just watching him couldn't.

8

Mr. Worthington was in his office, taking some Advil for his massive headache, when the call came over his line, saying that there was a security breech in the west lab, and that he'd better get down there quick.

He stormed down to the labs, wondering what his bothersome son had done now. But just before he reached the holding facility he found himself plastered to the wall by what seemed to be ice.

"We've got a bone to pick with you," growled a large man with three very sharp looking metal claws sticking from the knuckles on each of his hands. He was flanked by a small group of severally pissed looking teenagers.

"If this is about the defective cure, I assure you…" Mr. Worthington started hastily.

"We ain't here about your 'cure'," Logan hissed, shoving his face up close to the other man's and positioning his claws dangerously close to Mr. Worthington's throat.

"Where's Warren?" Kitty demanded, her and the other students drawing in closely behind Logan.

"W-why do you want to know?" Mr. Worthington asked, beginning to sweat profusely.

"There he is!" Yelled Jubilee, glancing through the glass door just a little further down the hall.

They all began running toward the door, Rogue in the lead. Logan paused a moment, still glaring at Mr. Worthington and made a threatening move toward him. He flinched, a faint whimpering sound escaping from his lips.

"Pathetic," Logan spat before turning and following the students down the hall.

Rogue ran into the room and up to the glass cage, staring sadly at the small, broken figure hunched in the corner. She ran her hands along it, at last finding the door, but she couldn't get it open. She slammed her fist into the wall right next to the locking console.

"I can't get it open," she cried.

"Here," Logan growling, moving up beside her and slashing the console to pieces with his claws. The door slid open.

Rogue rushed in and fell to her knees next to Warren's crumpled body. "Warren?" she asked tentatively reaching out a hand to touch his hand, but he twitched away, "Warren, its alright, we're here to take you back home, to the institute."

His head jerked up, his body slowly beginning to unfold. They all gasped at the sight of him. His chest was a solid wash of black, blue, purple, yellow, and green, all in varying shades. He had a black eye, his lip was split in three places, and his entire cheek was swollen to nearly twice its size. His eyes were sunken in their sockets and vacant, his feathers limp and greasy, and he looked like he weighted at least ten pounds less than he had before.

"I… didn't think… you got to see any angels… until after you died," Warren whispered brokenly, staring up at her through his single good eye.

If Rogue hadn't already been crying, she was now. "I'm not an angel," she whispered back, "Just someone come to make sure you get home safe." And with that Logan and Peter moved forward to help her lift him to his feet.

Carefully they supported him out of the cage toward the door, he being unable to stand on his own.

But once outside of the door Rogue stopped, her eyes landing on Mr. Worthington, still struggling against the ice that held him to the wall, and a dark light of pure wrath and hatred filled them.

"Hold him," she ordered, and making sure Logan and Peter had Warren she began to stride coldly down the hallway to the man, pulling off one of her gloves as she went.

When she reached him she grabbed him by the throat with her bare hand. And the pure force of her anger giving her a superhuman strength, she pulled him away from the wall, breaking the ice. She held him up, meeting his eyes squarely, his filled with fear, hers with death. She slammed him heartlessly against the wall again, his veins beginning to pop out as her power drained away his life force.

"This is only a taste," she hissed darkly, "of what I'll do to you if I _ever_ see you again." And with that she slammed her knee up between his legs before throwing him to the floor several feet away.

Then calmly she turned her back to him and pulling her glove smartly back on walked back to where her friends waited, staring in shock at her. She calmly and gently, took Warren back from Logan and Peter and began marching back to the X-Jet without another word.

8

Warren was in the school infirmary for nearly a month, most of that time asleep. Several of the students came to visit him, especially those who had gone alone to save him. They brought flowers and such usual get well paraphernalia. But no one visited as much as Rogue, who the nurse on several occasions had found after hours, sitting in the chair next to his bed, gently holding his hand in her gloved one while he slept.

At last he was almost back to normal. Rogue visited less then, though it hurt her to stay away, her shyness was once again taking over. However, one afternoon she was unable to stop herself and she crept into the infirmary, if only for just a peek at him.

To her surprise she found him sitting up in bed, pulling on a shirt. She felt the heat of blush creeping up her cheeks and she turned hastily to leave before he saw her, but in her hast managed to trip over a wheeled bedside tray, sending it to the floor with a resonating crash.

"Rogue?" said a soft, quiet, beautiful voice behind her. She froze.

"H-Hi Warren," she said, turning slowly back to face him, knowing her face was beat red.

Warren stood slowly, his movements a bit stiff due to his still slightly discolored chest. "I've been told you led to charge to save me," he said quietly, crossing the room until he stood just feet away from her, and she was gratified to see that he too was blushing passionately.

"Yeah well, your dad was really a…" but she trailed off, her breath completely failing her as he slowly leaned in until his lips were only inches from hers.

"No," she whispered, "I'll hurt you."

"Then how am I supposed to thank you?" he asked, his warm breath gently brushing over her face.

She thought for a moment; although the lack of space between them and the gentle warmth radiating from his body did somewhat hamper that function. "You could… take me for a fly," she said, smiling.

He smiled back, a slight, adorable blush still gracing his cheeks, "Anytime you want," he said, gently slipping his hand into her gloved one. And with that the two of them strolled out of the infirmary, hand in hand, each thinking that their life had just taken a huge turn for the better.


End file.
